I should be packing. Really. Tomorrow morning we are hopping in the van for a four hour trip to South Carolina for the long-awaited and oh-so-exciting wedding of one of my firstest and bestest friends in the United States.
I will be singing the song that she picked for me to sing at her wedding…oh, about five years ago when her hubby-to-be wasn’t even a blip on the horison. The same song that I was singing at the top of my lungs (well, not really, but it was ‘hearable’) whilst loading groceries into the van at Walmart today.
Some passerby made flashed me a big smile and said: “Thank you.” I’m still puzzled at what he meant. Thank you for singing? Or did did it have something to do the words: Let me look upon your beauty, as if it were the first time I’d seen it… 😀
I was at a store today looking for something to wear at the wedding and left empty-handed. I approached the exit doors at an angle, since I had just hung up a dress against the wall near the exit. The doors wouldn’t budge. Uh -oh. I tracked back into the store again and approached the doors from the correct angle this time, fully expecting them to slide open. No such luck. So I jumped up and down in my place a few times.
I do not weigh a whole lot and I have been embarrassed in the past by doors that do not register my approach. I always get a mild anxiety attack anticipating a repeat of that scenario, and wondered exactly what kind of theatrics I would have to perform in order to coax the doors into realising that I am actually there, wanting to go out, thankyouverymuch.
So I felt this consternation rising withing me, as I flashed helpless looks towards the lady at the cash register and an older man sitting in a nearby chair. Both were watching me quizically. I half wondered why the man wouldn’t just act the gentleman and walk up to the door so his weight could cause it to swing open.
“How do you open these doors? ” I asked. “They are not working”.
This is when the man piped up. “Just push it.”
Oh, I could have died. I laughed all the way to my car, but I was as red as a beetroot too. Swiss cheese brain, I tell ya.
This could go down as an almost-most-embarrassing moment. I have a few (much) worse stories, LOL. (You’re welcome to share yours if you want to make me feel better. 😉 )